


Bad Things.

by Cassiopeia5493



Category: Ivar the Boneless - Fandom, Vikings - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Ivar flirts ike he's threatening you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiopeia5493/pseuds/Cassiopeia5493
Summary: Ivar wants to do a lot of Bad Things to you.





	Bad Things.

“If you only knew the bad things I like  
Don’t think that I can explain it  
What can I say, it’s complicated”

Ivar has a problem. Well, actually, he’s got a whole a lot of problems but, right now, his main problem, the one that won’t let him sleep at night is you. The things he wants to do to you. 

He grumbles under his breath when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes roaming up the lenght of your exposed legs, how you rest your weight on the right one, your left bend at the knee and your foot scratching softly on your ankle. Ivar is sure you are the way he’s gonna end up paying for all the bad shit he’s done. 

You turn around and startle a little when you see him, sitting on the kitchen island, his permanent scowl a little deeper than usual “Morning, Ivar” You say with a smile, you learned long ago not to let him affect you “Fancy some coffee?”

He grumbles again, something that sounds like a “Yes” and stares as you move around the kitchen, serving his coffee and making your own breakfast. You look over your shoulder and smirk to yourself.

Ivar realizes in that moment you’re wearing one of his hoodies, again, and rolls his eyes “What is it with you and my clothes?” He says out loud and you turn a smile on your face.

“Is not all your clothes I wear, Ivar. Just your hoodies” You serve his coffee and walk over to him putting it in front of him “They’re comfortable, thay smell nice, they’re warm”  
“Maybe you wouldn’t need them to be warm if you, actually, wore clothes” Ivar snaps and you bite your lip, then shrug.  
“Why does it bother you so much?” You ask, as you plate your food. 

Ivar ignores you, trying to focus on anything else than the soft, smooth skin of your legs or how your hair frames your face in a slightly dishelved way, you sit down and take a bite of your bacon, moaning at the taste of it and all Ivar can think is about how he could make you moan louder than that. He wants to. He’s been thinking about all the things he wants to do to you. How he wants to hear you beg for it. Wants to see your eyes filled with tears of pure frustration at his teasing. He hates the power you have over him, it’s enough to put him a worse mood than he, already, normally is.

Ivar is staring at you, one of those murderous stares of him, the one you never know how to interpret; that look halfway I want to murder you and I want to fuck you senseless. Maybe both? You’ve heard things about him and his fights with his brothers. You tilt your head, on the verge of asking why is he looking at you like that when he speaks “Come here”  
Now, that tone of voice leaves no room for hesitation. But still you decide to finish your breakfast, with the upmost calm possible, staring right back at him, almost unable of keeping the smirk out of your face. You get up and take your plate and cup, leave them in the sink and when you walk pass Ivar his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back until you’re in fron of him and his looking at you with those big, unsettling blue eyes.

“Yes, Ivar?” You ask on tone that comes way calmer than what you feel, Ivar is intimidating, towering over people on his crutches, with that calmed velvety voice and those board shoulders, a shiver runs through you when he tugs you even closer, until you’re standing between his spread legs, you look at him a soft smile on your lips.

“What is this little game of yours?” He asks, he asks letting go of your wrist and instead placing his hands on your hips, under his sweater, your breath hitches and he smirks “Did the cat got your tongue?”

You say nothing and look at him like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and mouth a little agape, before you know it, Ivar is dragging you even nearer to him and his teeth dig on your lower lip, making you whimper, you push weakly against his chest an affronted expression on your face when Ivar gives you a knowing smirk “Where are you going?”   
He lifts an eyebrow and drags his nose up the column of your neck, humming at soft smell of your skin “You know… Your smell always lingers on my clothes, soft and tempting like you. I don’t think you’ve ever thought about that, little dove” His hands travel up, from your hips to your waist and he grips tighter, his blunt nails almost digging on your skin “The effect you have on me. The things it makes me want to do to you, have you?”

You shake your head, goosebumps raising on your skin, and you rest your hands on his forearms, he leans forward and smells your hair, bites the corner of your jaw softly and then starts to move his calloused hands tentatively, just to see how far would you let him go.

You feel Ivar’s lips on the shell of your ear, biting your lobe, his breath on your skin and you shiver. He chuckles “I want to hear you beg for me, dove. I want to make you mine. I want to make sure I am the first thing you think of in the morning and the last thing you think off at night” Ivar gets one of his hands out from under his sweater and moves it so he can start pulling down the zipper of the hoodie, licking his lips “I want to make you cry and I want to lick the tears out of your face. I want to fuck the pretty cunt of yours so hard you’ll feel a part of you missing when I’m not there, Dove. I want to ruin you and I want to mark you” Ivar kisses your cheek hard, then moves to your lips and kisses you harder, making you gasp as his hand opens the zipper, discovering your simple, black cotton set of underwear for him “I want to spoil you, too. But more than anything I want to claim you for me. Will you let me, Dove?” 

He finishes talking your cheeks are flaming, your mouth is kiss swollen and his hands are roaming and groping at every part pf you he can reach, you nod and try to talk but nothing comes out, then you clear your throat and try again “Please, Ivar” You croak out and he kisses you again. Leaving you breathless and wondering about all the bad things he wants to do to you, his little Dove.


End file.
